Writing

These are some of my stories and poetry... Enjoy!

~~~

(I entered this poem into the Story Embers poetry contest this year. I'd never entered a contest before and I didn't win, but I'm grateful for the experience.)

The Deadliest Monster: Inspired by The Deadliest Monster by Jeff Baldwin

I've heard there were two monsters

One that was provoked to sin

And one that was deep within

                                                                                                                                  

I've heard there were two doctors

By one a monster was created

By another an evil within was born

 

The first was created perfectly moral

Only the outside frightened humanity

Even its goodness couldn’t change their fear

 

In an effort to separate evil from virtue

A more deadly evil was born

A potion to separate that which is inseparable

 

Frankenstein tried to reason with his creation

But the Monster didn't listen to reason

In fear, Frankenstein fled for life

 

To Jekyll’s dismay, Mr. Hyde controlled him

Only one solution remained to prevent

The hostility of Mr. Hyde

 

Which monster is more deadly? Which one are we?

The one created by Dr. Frankenstein

Or the one deep inside Jekyll, called Hyde?

 

You can't really blame Frankenstein's creature

It was humanity's own fault

For they turned it against them

 

In the case of Dr. Jekyll- he can only blame himself

He let his evil villain out

And in the end, Hyde overruled

 

So are we more like Frankenstein's creature,

Becoming a monster by the world?

Or are we Dr. Jekyll with a monster deep inside us?

(I wrote this as I was researching for my WWI project, thinking of my characters and the Christmas Truce, Dec. 25th 1914)

The Christmas Truce

'Twas December 25th 

All was silent, and all was still

From inside trenches,

Souls sang songs, 

From foreign tongue and nation,

Songs of Christmas joy and cheer

The guns were silent

The men just listened

Listened to the voices singing,

“Joy and peace to the world”

How can this be? 

How can they sing of peace? 

When there is no peace nor joy in war,

Only pain.

Only suffering.

Only loss.

One by one, men appeared,

The land of death now filled with life.

A place where instant death occurred, 

Now, a place of song, dance and life.

The men who'd just the day afore,

Cocked, and aimed, and fired, and killed

Now, sang, danced, and played as before war 

Men with aching broken hearts. 

Those with aching broken bones.

All joined the singing, laughter, games 

In the dark corner of a trench,

A heart; aching throbbing torn

Couldn't join the fun.

Not after what those men had done. 

They'd taken his brother, 

His friend,

His soul.

The joyous cries, 

Laughing and cheering.

The kicking of helmets like balls, 

The games, the fun. 

Everything made the ache acute.

He heard footsteps, 

“C'mon, brother, 

C'mon, enjoy yerself for once. 

Who knows when this war'll end, 

we might as well enjoy ourselves,”

A friend encouraged him. 

He shakes his head, bitter in reply-  

“How do you sing and dance when you're hurt?” 

His heart is aching, it's broken. 

It's shattered in so many pieces. 

He's left alone again. 

The cheering: relentless. 

It won't leave him alone. 

He finally drags himself up. 

Out of the trench, 

Out of the dark.

The cold, fresh snow stings his nearly bare feet. 

He pulls a threadbare coat tighter around his shoulders. 

“You've come, ol' pal, you've come! 

Enjoy yourself, put down your gun.” 

With every game,

With every song,

With every laugh,

The broken heart begins to heal. 

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~~~

(As I've gotten older I've wondered what I'm supposed to do with my life and that wondering often leads to worry, this poem was written to help surrender my abilities, hopes, and dreams to Jesus)

I'm Your Clay

Your direction do I seek

If I am your plans to keep

Though I do not know them yet

With Your strength, I’ll not fret

The history of your faithfulness

The stories of your greatness

These I love to hear

To these do I give my ear

The melody of your praises do I play

The psalm of enemy slay

The song of sweet refrain

The hymn of salvation plain

To write the stories I wish I had

In hopes of making others glad

To write the story of Your hope

In prayer that others will climb the slope

These gifts You’ve given me, I surrender

With the hope of heavenly splendor

Use me, LORD, I’m Your clay

Fashion me how You may

(I wrote this while my family and I were reading through the book of Ruth. Each stanza starts with a letter in the name "Ruth" each stanza summarizes a chapter in the book.)

The Book Of Ruth

Return oh mother 

Thy homeland

Return fair daughter 

To the land of thy husband’s birth

Under His wings

Find ye refuge

Mother and daughter-in-law

Both of thee alike

Threshing floor

Redeem thy handmaid

Oh, son of Judah

Redeem her

House of Judah

A child is born

Born to the Kinsman Redeemer

In the line of our Redeemer

(I wrote this one late night during NaNoWriMo 2020)

Late Night NaNo

Staring, blinking at a screen.

Wondering what comes next.

Twirling my hair,

Pursing my lips,

Straining my eyes,

Cramping my hands.

Late nights and coffee.

Dark nights and blue screen.

Curled in a blanket,

Typing at the keys.

In need of a shower.

Killing a character;

Maybe two...

You never know,

The brain of the NaNoWriMo,

A late-night writer.